


Forty Looks Good on You

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-07
Updated: 2007-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Anything for the little lady on her birthday."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forty Looks Good on You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "last kiss" meme.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works.

"Turning forty sucks, Pacey."

"I know." He bought her another drink--ginger ale with more cherries in it than an adult's drink should have--and pushed a strand of still-blonde hair from her face. "It looks good on you, Audrey."

She smirked and wriggled, rolling her shoulders back so he could see straight down her dress. Firm as ever. "Looks good on you, too, Witter."

"That's because I'm manly. Also because I spent all of thirty seven through thirty nine and three hundred and sixty four days with a beard and moustache just so I could shave them off on my fortieth and look thirty again." He stroked his newly bare chin. "It's possible I look better than you."

"Oh, I doubt that." She plucked a cherry from her drink and slid it between pursed lips. "I've had clean living on my side for decades now. I look fantastic."

She did. She was always gorgeous, but where once there was edginess and anxiety now there was a sense of contained wildness that made him want to pull the tie of her dress where it hung low on her hip and see if wrap dresses really did unwrap as advertised. "So," he said. "Two old friends meeting in an airport bar. Coming or going, Miss Lidell?"

"Coming, Mr. Witter. Always coming. And you?"

"The same." He clinked his keys against her glass. "Care to join me for a nightcap?"

"I don't drink."

"That's good because I don't have any alcohol in my room."

She fished through the melting ice cubes in her glass searching for the last cherry. Finding it, she sucked it from the stem, daintily wiped her fingers and lips on the paper napkin that had been under his beer, and put her arm through his. "You better show me a good time, Witter."

"Anything for the little lady on her birthday."

"Damn right." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Damn right."


End file.
